


Starlight in Central London

by hobbit_hedgehog



Series: Statement Begins OC Fiction [2]
Category: Statement Begins (TMA OC Server)
Genre: Existential Ruminations, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, OC Lore - Freeform, TMA OC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23709820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbit_hedgehog/pseuds/hobbit_hedgehog
Summary: Mickey Giles reflects on the state of starlight in Central London.A The Magnus Archives OC lore story.
Series: Statement Begins OC Fiction [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1707610
Kudos: 1





	Starlight in Central London

**Author's Note:**

> Back to back posting is a little weird, but here we are! Nearly identical author's note as the previous posting: 
> 
> I am a part of a Discord server called Statement Begins, which is a cosplay and RP server dedicated to OCs for the podcast The Magnus Archives (TMA). I've written a few pieces for some of my OCs in the server and decided to share them here on AO3. I have elected not to tag this for The Magnus Archives as I don't want it to show up in the main tag. Instead, I have tagged it with the name of the server in order to establish it as a part of our server's timeline, which deviates from the original storyline around season 3 of the podcast.
> 
> For those of you who aren't familiar with The Magnus Archives, it's a horror audio drama set in the fictional Magnus Institute in London with the main character Jonathan Sims recording statements of paranormal happenings as a part of his job as the Head Archivist. I would describe The Magnus Archives as unsettling and creepy rather than scary, but it has its moments of horror and violence that might be upsetting to some people. This particular story is about my character Mickey Giles, who is a servant of the Lonely and a studio musician currently on the run. This story is about Mickey's connection to space and to his Entity.

Mickey Giles slipped on his shoes at quarter past twelve and vanished from the hotel room, leaving his companion behind. Mickey knew Jaky wasn’t asleep. Jaky, for all Mickey knew, didn’t need sleep. They’re a mannequin, after all. Still, that fact didn’t stop Mickey from using the Lonely to pass out of the room without a trace after leaving a note saying, “Be back soon.” Being on the run, Mickey spent a considerable amount of time with Jaky. It was impossible not to, they were protecting one another. But Mickey Giles always had been and always would be a solitary person by nature, regardless of his connections to his Entity. Every now and again, he needed to be alone.

Mickey didn’t head very far from the hotel. The hotel overlooked a park; Mickey could be back inside within the span of five minutes if he needed to. He made his way into the depths of the park, keeping the Lonely draped around him like an old, familiar coat. He found what he was looking for in the center of the park: a small copse of trees. Mickey sat in the center of the trees, ignoring the frost that melted into his shoes and jeans. Despite the chill of the Lonely and of the early spring night, Mickey wasn’t bothered. He was mostly used to it at that point. Knowing that he was alone, Mickey looked up at the night sky.

For all of the people related grievances Mickey could have about living in London, the light pollution really was the one thing he hated the most. With all the lights of the city, it was impossible to look up and take in the wide expanses of the universe. You could go to some secluded space in the city, look up and see some stars, like Mickey had, but you couldn’t escape the glow of street lights. You couldn’t look up and experience the night sky the way it was meant to be experienced. There were no clusters of galaxies, no visible constellations, no shooting stars, no sign of the Milky Way. Just a handful of far off dots in the sky that flickered dimly against the nightlife of London. 

Growing up and moving from place to place constantly as a child, Mickey garnered an appreciation for the night sky. It was one of the few constants that he had. The same constellations were always there, if you knew where to look. His mother had fostered that love of space in him. She bought him little space-themed trinkets whenever she found them and books on constellations and their myths. She went stargazing with him on summer nights when she wasn’t on the verge of collapsing after working three jobs in one day. She introduced him to David Bowie and Elton John and called him space-themed pet names like “her little Rocketman”, “Starman” and “Starlight”. She had even scraped together enough money to buy him a telescope for his tenth birthday. He still had it; it was locked in its case in the apartment Mickey wasn’t sure he’d ever return to permanently. He had half a mind to ask Jaky if they could, just so he could have it.

The love of space hadn’t waned as Mickey had grown older. Even when Mickey reached the age when he knew he’d never leave Earth’s atmosphere and that the lights in the sky could be long dead even as he stared at them, when he learned that for all the potential for life in the Universe he was a small, insignificant speck on a blue rock in the middle of nowhere, Mickey’s love for the cosmos never faltered. It was a source of comfort for Mickey, when other things in his life left him feeling hollow.

Benji had called him “Starlight” once, just before Mickey’s mother had died. He never did it a second time.

All of Mickey’s acquaintances were aware, in some part, of his love of space. It wasn’t uncommon for them to assume he was a servant of the Vast, given his twilight gray hair, thrifted NASA shirt and galaxy print jacket. Theo McLeod had been so excited the first time he had met Mickey, assuming he was another space-obsessed Vastling. He had later been surprised to find out that Mickey was a servant of the Lonely; he wouldn’t be the first or last person to have that reaction. Mickey joked a few times that he wouldn’t have been surprised if he had ended up a servant of the Vast, the Lonely was just quicker. Sometimes he wished the Vast had been the one to get him. 

And yet, the Lonely and the Vast weren’t that far removed from one another. The universe was vast, but in its vastness, it was cold and unforgiving in a way that resonated with the Lonely. No matter how important you thought you are, you were infinitesimally small in the grand scheme of things, if there was a grand scheme at all. Really, there was nothing lonelier than knowing your place in an endless, uncaring void was just as unimportant as everyone elses’. Mickey loved that about the universe.

As Mickey watched the night sky, he slowly laid back in the frozen grass. As he fell back down to Earth, he let the fog of the Lonely wash over him. It wasn’t as cold or as painful for Mickey to fall into the Lonely. It didn’t take as much effort to give yourself over to your Entity’s domain.

As he fell back, Mickey sang quietly to himself, “Burning out his fuse up there alone.” 

There were no stars in the Lonely, not really. There were a few indiscernible shapes in the distance that might be trees and there was the ever-present sound of far-off waves breaking on a rocky shore. But Mickey swore, if he looked hard enough, he could see the entire cosmos twinkling overhead as the fog of the Lonely swirled around him. Starlight in Central London, at last.


End file.
